tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71538302012-02-16T02:28:47.741-07:00Fresh from the nerd hatchery!TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.comBlogger581100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-51166131163768030982010-12-31T16:43:00.003-07:002010-12-31T16:51:21.841-07:00

Man, I simultaneously blew and sucked at working on reaching the goals I set for 2010. Oh well, I'm over it. Not reaching goals is something I'm very practiced at. Anyway, here's my one and only goal for 2011: LIVE BY A FREAKING BUDGET FOR ONCE.Seriously, I've been 29 for almost two years now, and I have yet to set a budget and stick with it. But here's the thing: I NEED TO. Or there will be

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-5568079944515796622010-12-31T16:13:00.002-07:002010-12-31T16:23:29.771-07:00

Remember my goals for 2010? Yeah, I barely do either. But let's see how I did.Goal #1: Stick to a daily schedule. This did not go over well. Here was the new goal: NEW GOAL #1: Don't sleep past 11:00 on school days, then make a list of crap I need to get done every day and do it. Done and done. I don't think I slept past 11:00 on a school day once after this. And I even started getting up at 7:30

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-63799437383717034162010-09-14T15:21:00.004-06:002010-12-31T16:24:36.510-07:00

It's a fact that if I don't start working before noon, my desire to work decreases by about twenty gazillion percent. Right now I'm stuck in the contradictory predicament of hyperventilating because my finances are crap and I need more work, but not feeling like working on the work I do have. So for the past hour and a half I've been catching up on my Google Reader, updating my Mint.com account (

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-91457276583365830162010-04-27T17:08:00.002-06:002010-04-27T17:17:32.282-06:00

Woke up with zits by my nose and mouth. Sometime between my shower and 11:00 a.m., another one sprang up on my forehead. This is a violation of the ceasefire established between me and my body. We are now in all-out war. (I think my body is mad at me for putting it on a diet.)Working as fast as I can to finish a big, fat rush job for a very good client of mine. It's not happening fast enough and

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-27493961713678207002010-04-26T18:52:00.002-06:002010-04-26T19:09:11.747-06:00

BasementAbout a month ago, work to finish my basement started. Not by me, heavens no, don't be ridiculous! I'm paying people to finish it. Currently it's framed, taped and mudded, and ready for baseboards and doors to be put in. After that it's paint, carpet, and the finishing touches, including the bathroom fixtures. Once it's finished, I'll be moving my office down there and writing the whole

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-18878755995438918412010-04-22T17:24:00.003-06:002010-04-22T17:48:27.280-06:00

This is my treadmill (see right). You can tell this is really my treadmill and not some picture I stole online because nobody would proudly post a picture of a TV (and a tiny one, at that) mounted above a treadmill with all the ugly wires showing. That's not how fancy-pants people roll, you know. I, however, am not a fancy pants and I am also too lazy to do anything other than wrap a twisty

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-59880715309510711612010-04-21T09:24:00.002-06:002010-04-21T09:52:18.419-06:00

Remember at the beginning of the year when I posted my goals for 2010 so I'd have to actually do something to achieve them? Well, it's been about five months now (where did the time go?), so I thought I'd show a little accountability and tell the two of you who read this how I'm doing thus far. Here goes.Goal #1: Stick to a daily schedule. HAHAHAHAHA! *Wipes tear* What was I thinking? I stuck to

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-73619237951765145022010-03-27T16:48:00.004-06:002010-04-02T18:10:46.266-06:00

I go through phases in my TV watching. I've been through a House phase, an NCIS phase, a Law & Order: SVU phase... Basically I watch something until I'm so sick of it that I can hardly stand to watch it anymore and/or I've seen all the episodes. Three times each. Right now I'm in my HGTV phase, namely my Income Property and Holmes and Homes phase. I can't get enough.I've always had a penchant for

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-53141548965546136662010-03-27T16:43:00.002-06:002010-03-27T16:48:27.660-06:00

I've been playing a lot of Mike Tyson's Punch Out on NES recently. I started cracking up the other day because I looked at Doc Louis (Little Mac's trainer) and realized that he looks exactly like Stanley Hudson from The Office. Seriously! Check it out if you don't believe me.Seeing as it's already on TotallyLooksLike.com, I'm obviously not the only one who thinks so.

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-69917115930237377702010-03-19T16:17:00.002-06:002010-03-19T16:37:54.453-06:00

I skipped lunch the other day. I had had a late breakfast and when lunchtime rolled around I just wasn't hungry. By 4:00 I figured I might as well just hold out until dinnertime, which I did. I ate a Totino's pizza around 5:30 or 6:00. Quick tangent: holy poop I love Totino's pizzas. I don't care if it's gauche, those babies are freaking delish. Do I eat the whole thing? You betcha. I ain't

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-62856364397175747252010-03-10T15:50:00.003-07:002010-03-10T16:19:16.788-07:00

I'm sure that Sarah Jessica Parker is a sweet, lovely person. She's probably very nice to common little people like you and me, and you can't deny that she's got great hair and a slammin' body. I know a lot of people gush over her fashion sense as well, but since I care precisely not at all about fashion, I'm going to go ahead and remain neutral on that point. But sweet spirit and hot body aside,

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-87156984025170103502010-03-09T11:37:00.002-07:002010-03-09T12:12:02.054-07:00

Holy poop, has it seriously been more than a month since I last posted? My goodness. Well, I can explain. It's not a good excuse (most aren't), but it's an excuse nonetheless.I got really busy with work. Like, working twelve hours a day busy. After I spend that amount of time at the computer I don't really feel like spending more time there, you know? Then once things slowed down, I needed a

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-34156386268658583112010-02-05T09:38:00.003-07:002010-02-05T09:57:31.704-07:00

As you know, my cockatiel Chauncy has laid four eggs. She has been sitting on them night and day like a champ because Olive (the father) is either too lazy or too stupid to help with the incubation duties. Anyway, from day one, Chauncy has refused to use the totally sweet nest box I bought her. It's made out of wood and has a removable lid and all sorts of awesome features, but she prefers the

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-77908067284447822282010-02-04T11:56:00.004-07:002010-02-04T12:14:01.802-07:00

This is my garbage can. More specifically, it's my office garbage can. Sadly, my office garbage can portrays a very accurate image of my snacking habits. Let's examine it more closely, shall we?First, let's count the Diet Coke cans. There are eight cans visible, and probably twice that many underneath. You have to really strain since it blends in so well with the silver Diet Coke cans, but there

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-4143317797926988832010-02-03T15:25:00.002-07:002010-02-03T15:40:02.839-07:00

Call me a prude, but I believe a woman's personal grooming is something best kept between her, her partner, and her gynecologist. It is not something to be flashed at innocent, unsuspecting souls in the Comcast parking lot when all they want to do is pick up their new cable box and get back home to set the DVR. But try telling that to the nasty woman in the red dress and faux fur coat that parked

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-45859063892158969352010-02-02T10:47:00.002-07:002010-02-02T10:58:04.467-07:00

Okay, I think I'm going to finally break down and subscribe to DVR. The regular TV season is in full swing and I have shows on every night that I really don't want to miss (and sometimes two shows a night, which forces me into a which-will-I-watch showdown). I totally forgot the final season of Lost was premiering tonight and made plans to get together with my best friend from high school. I

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-56454263010950170082010-02-01T09:47:00.003-07:002010-02-01T10:10:16.797-07:00

THE COCKATIEL EGGS ARE FERTILE! Do you like how I just threw that out there, first thing? No intro? No warning? Just BAM! fertile. That's right. I want you to feel the way I did when, on a whim, I candled all four of Chauncy's eggs (even though the day before they were all empty except for a big, yellow yolk), and saw red veins and tiny fetuses! I'm surprised I didn't drop the eggs, I was so

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-36521966632520953742010-01-27T13:01:00.002-07:002010-01-27T13:16:41.580-07:00

I don't know why but I have been craving apple fritters like mad lately. Actually I do know why, but this is neither the time nor the place to be discussing my PMS. Anywho, the apple fritters. I can honestly say that I don't remember the last time I ate an apple fritter, but my body's been telling me, "You need to gorge on apple fritters and you need to do it now." I pretended I was one of those

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-74309776018298930062010-01-25T21:49:00.002-07:002010-01-25T21:53:53.180-07:00

Me: Did they weigh you at the doctor's office today?My sister: Yeah...Me: Ugh, I wish they could just eyeball you and then assign a marine mammal that closest fits your physical description like, "Manatee."[Later in the conversation...]My sister: Doctors' scales always read so much higher than your scale at home.Me: I know, you get on and it's like, "You weight one miiiillion pounds." And then

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-86265384986838793522010-01-25T10:34:00.002-07:002010-01-25T11:07:35.178-07:00

Friday night I talked to my mom on the phone. Our conversation steered toward my birds (as so often it does), and I mentioned that Chauncy was hunkered down in the corner of the cage bottom, acting like it was a nest or something. "The dumb bird thinks he's going to lay an egg," I said. "Maybe he's sick?" Mom suggested. "Nah, he's not sitting like he's sick, he's sitting like he's brooding."Even

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-62208770255422052132010-01-22T11:48:00.002-07:002010-01-22T11:58:15.008-07:00

I just logged in to eHarmony to take out the trash so my mom wouldn't misguidedly try to match me with some jock whose favorite things were keggers, tailgate parties, and boobs. Ugh, there are so many losers scumming up the dating pool, I'm starting to lose my faith in mankind. I have nothing against people who love to camp and play sports; I don't like those things, but that doesn't make them

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-16313719987336112202010-01-22T10:47:00.003-07:002010-01-22T11:00:53.592-07:00

Since work has slowed down I don't feel like working at all. And if I'm not working, I don't feel like doing much of anything else except watching TV or, if I'm feeling ambitious, playing video games. Wow, I'm a winner! Yesterday I made a batch of peanut butter fudge, got my house all cleaned up for book club, and even ran a few errands. It didn't help my motivation reserves, it depleted them.

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-64910193375248835662010-01-20T21:37:00.003-07:002010-01-20T21:40:17.162-07:00

Me: Dude, I freaking love Alan Tudyk.Carrie: He has two?[Rim shot]

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-21303893848180270412010-01-20T10:39:00.002-07:002010-01-20T11:32:30.078-07:00

This morning was a slow starter. I lay in bed for about fifteen minutes after the alarm went off thinking about how much I didn't want to get out of bed and how much I didn't want to work today (even though I've basically had the last two days off--not to mention the weekend). What finally got me out of bed was my promise to myself that if I would get up, get ready, and work on that huge project

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-80662287719551075972010-01-19T12:07:00.002-07:002010-01-19T12:23:05.954-07:00

I recently signed up for eHarmony in a fit of desperate curiosity. For those of you lucky enough to not know how eHarmony works, I'll tell you. You spend about five hours answering a crapton of personal questions, eHarmony compiles a personality profile on you, then emails you a bunch of possible matches based on that profile. Science and romance, a match made in hell.Yesterday eHarmony matched

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-21624165700268213072010-01-15T16:23:00.003-07:002010-01-15T16:59:56.850-07:00

If you find yourself in need of a pen and have some time to spare, might I suggest selling your house and buying a new one? In the process of buying and selling a house just over two years ago, I procured approximately six to eight brand new pens for myself. Everybody wants to give you a pen: your real estate agent, your mortgage broker, your title company... Anybody who's dealing with you on

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-14814689244124560192010-01-14T17:32:00.002-07:002010-01-14T17:37:48.884-07:00

Christmas Eve I was over at my parents' house dropping off pies and other miscellanea for Christmas dinner. My mom was decorating the dinner table while my dad got the turkey ready for the oven. These little gems are courtesy of my mother (as usual).[helping my mom twist bead ropes that were going to be placed down the middle of the table]Mom: Here, I'll hold and you twist.Me: That's what she

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-44180362270373157152010-01-11T11:50:00.003-07:002010-01-11T11:57:02.546-07:00

I would never engage online sex chats, but if I did, I know for a fact this is what it would look like (except I would capitalize the first words in my sentences, and I would also spell the word sentence correctly. This person is a bit of a hypocrite).Obviously brought to you by Fail Blog.

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-28695673395595836722010-01-08T15:33:00.003-07:002010-01-08T16:10:03.654-07:00

Okay, so that post title makes it sound like I'm going to start talking about how I'm a spinster and boo-hoo I'm going to die all sad, lonely, and alone, the shell of a once-vibrant woman who had the life sucked out of her bit by bit with each passing day she spent not cradled in the arms of a man who loved her. I mean, yeah, that probably is what's going to happen, but that's not what I'm

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-78243966511484254062010-01-06T15:34:00.002-07:002010-01-06T15:48:00.768-07:00

Thanks to the great Spend Less Initiative of 2010, I have started planning and cooking my meals at home. Let me tell you a little something about cooking for one*. It stinks.Cooking for one is just as hard as cooking for six, with the unhappy side effect of copious amounts of leftovers. I've even tried halving my beloved family recipes and guess what I get? Three servings instead of six. That

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-26823407916149850552010-01-05T16:35:00.002-07:002010-01-05T17:04:02.922-07:00

Before we get started there are two things you should know about me:1. I love Diet Coke. A lot.2. When it comes to food, texture is as important as taste. The first (and only) time I had tiramisu I thought the lady fingers would be crispy. Turns out they were soggy, and it totally put me off tiramisu forever. Apples should be crispy, Twinkies should be cake-y, and liquids should not be chunky.I

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-59051193239693735792010-01-04T16:49:00.002-07:002010-01-04T17:11:58.614-07:00

About two or three weeks ago I devised a schedule for myself in anticipation of the new year. The main objective of said schedule wasn't to increase productivity, duplicate synergy, or any other corporate-speak nonsense. Basically, it was to keep me from slouching on the couch in a dirty shirt all day and make sure I showered on a somewhat regular basis. Behold! Day one has been a success! Here I

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-53119694567699510192010-01-01T15:26:00.002-07:002010-01-01T16:20:51.293-07:00

I have goal-achievement envy. I keep reading all these bloggers' year-end recaps detailing the goals they set for themselves at the beginning of the year and how they fared in their achievements. Why am I envious? Because I don't even remember what goal(s) I set for myself for 2009, let alone if I achieved them. One of them was probably something like, "Don't fail at my freelancing business,"

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-28603671591253896762009-11-11T22:09:00.000-07:002009-11-11T20:09:56.144-07:00

The other morning a local radio station was conducting a poll: what things do girls think are cute, but really aren't? Here are my answers:Ugg boots. Sorry, no. They're fugly. The more dangly crap and roadkill you put on them the uglier they get. That's why they're called Ugg. That's the sound you make when you see them.Crocs. Ditto.Playing dumb/ditzy. Really? Is it 1956 when girls are still

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-55980945009983618802009-11-11T20:04:00.002-07:002009-11-11T20:07:39.956-07:00

Me: "That's a big mail truck. You know what they say about big mail trucks."Mom (nods knowingly): "Big packages."Ok, it wasn't a That's what she said, but it still cracked me up.

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-30927915875702865122009-10-28T18:50:00.005-06:002009-11-11T20:03:56.364-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I was awoken at about 6:00 a.m. to the sound of birds thrashing in their cage. I sat still in bed, waiting to see if it would happen again. It did, only it didn't stop. I ran downstairs and threw on all the lights to see my lutino cockatiel Chauncy covered in blood and clinging to the side of his cage. Blood was splattered everywhere. You know that episode of Mad Men where

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-41008455995070274962009-10-28T17:54:00.002-06:002009-10-28T18:42:37.754-06:00

When I was eleven I went to the grocery store with my dad. Going to the store with Dad was fun because he actually listened to you when you started hounding him to buy item A or product B. My mom had learned years earlier to leave us kids at home or, failing that, to tune us out for as long as she could and then threaten beatings when she couldn't ignore the whining anymore. I didn't know it at

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-77936849873208208252009-10-21T21:41:00.002-06:002009-10-21T22:08:22.810-06:00

Here are some people I would really like to punch in the face (in no particular order and not necessarily for any particular reason):Michael MooreAnn CoulterEddie MurphyLaurent RuquierBill MaherHillary ClintonBill ClintonSusan SarandonThe Barenaked LadiesThe checker at Target with the crappy "THUG" prison tat on his arm who's always grumpyBill O'ReillyThe idiots who have kept The Simpsons on the

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-84853140038982439952009-10-17T12:51:00.004-06:002009-10-17T13:07:46.917-06:00

This post is being written as I lie on my stomach, teetering on a pile of slightly damp microfiber pillows. Usually I write my posts (and do pretty much everything except go to the bathroom) nestled in the bosom of my super comfortable couch. But today that's just not possible.Yesterday I looked at my carpet (dotted with little puppy accidents) and my couch (covered in dog hair and dirtied a

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-50464493311813051602009-10-15T18:16:00.002-06:002009-10-15T18:20:52.424-06:00

I had my parents over for dinner Monday night (because I'm a good daughter like that). At the end of the meal, my mom started stacking dishes and said:"Here, you can put your stuff on my stuff, and--"Me and Dad: "That's what she said!"Then we laughed and high-fived each other.

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-7554869276080952992009-10-08T15:53:00.002-06:002009-10-08T15:58:00.192-06:00

Work has been slow and even stagnant at times the last few weeks. Needless to say, I'm feeling the stress of watching money go out while no money comes in. So it was with a huge sigh of relief that I saw a new project from my best client waiting for me in my inbox a few minutes ago. I started the download and started whispering to myself:"Please let it be a big one, please let it be a big one,

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-3129087360469038592009-10-07T21:49:00.002-06:002009-10-07T21:56:19.412-06:00

So remember that time I was supposed to go meet with one of the bishop's counselors and I just knew I was going to get a calling? But then I got sick and had to cancel the meeting? Well, they finally tracked me down again and called me in for the meeting wherein they would ruin my life by calling me as a primary teacher or nursery leader. I girded my loins and went in.I was delightfully shocked

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-57655822885371807702009-10-06T14:46:00.004-06:002009-10-06T15:01:04.750-06:00

I absolutely love getting stuff in the mail, so much so that I look forward to getting the mail every day on the off chance that maybe somebody sent me something or that something will arrive from Amazon that I totally forgot I ordered. Most days that isn't the case and my mail consists only of weekly circulars and bills. But today! Today I got a package from Kristen! I was super psyched! I got

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-76028117459371341132009-10-06T13:46:00.008-06:002009-10-06T14:41:17.011-06:00

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a sucker for animals, especially puppies. I like to think of my love for animals as a positive thing; it means I have a heart. I don't trust anybody who doesn't love puppies. What kind of sicko doesn't look at puppies and think they're adorable? But I'm getting off track. I'm trying to say that it was this love of adorable puppies that caught me off guard last

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-30774959195631296972009-10-05T21:44:00.002-06:002009-10-05T21:49:38.192-06:00

I might have to break down and make myself one of those schedule things. I used to have an unofficial schedule where I'd get up, go to work, come home, work out, watch TV, and go to bed. Ever since I quit my job, my schedule has slowly declined into wake up, lounge on couch in pajamas/work, watch TV, go to bed. I've gone from getting dressed six days a week to maybe putting on some clothes I

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-45611851728692462342009-10-05T18:54:00.007-06:002009-10-05T19:33:16.402-06:00

My grandma used to bake really good bread. Whenever we visited, we'd have thick slices of homemade toast and jam for breakfast. It was heaven. But for some reason Grandma quit baking bread. I don't know why. Probably because she was tired of baking loaves upon loaves of bread only to have us descend like locusts and clear out every last crumb. Now she buys bagged bread like the rest of us. Toast

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-47846886652870493952009-09-23T10:26:00.003-06:002009-09-23T10:45:29.341-06:00

If I had to describe my life, I would personify it as a pasty, red-haired older brother who's constantly dangling awesome stuff just within my reach then jerking it back again just as my fingertips start to get a grip. Then it laughs maniacally through crooked, braces-lined teeth.A case in point:Yesterday I found a piece to one of my aquarium filters that I thought was long gone and lost for good

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-39212631405762966692009-09-17T13:59:00.003-06:002009-09-17T14:15:02.150-06:00

I make no secret of the fact that I am a huge Morrissey fan. Huge. Like, colossal. I love that man. My uterus is permanently reserved for the child(ren) that I'm ready to bear him, should he find himself in need of an incubator. I LOVE HIM. Ok, *deep breath* collecting myself and toning down the creepiness.A few months ago a friend and I went to France (among other France-like countries) on

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-16005729850675071682009-09-17T13:57:00.001-06:002009-09-17T13:59:23.327-06:00

Mom squeezes a lemon wedge into her Diet Coke. It slips out of her fingers and into her drink.Mom [visibly disappointed]: "Ohhh, I wasn't done squeezing it yet!"Me: "That's what she said!"

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-22098260192616704462009-09-15T16:53:00.005-06:002009-09-15T17:25:25.904-06:00

Birds like to get into trouble and make messes, especially my green cheek conure, Jiles (see sidebar for photo). He's only about four or five inches tall, but he leaves a swath of destruction behind him a mile wide. He loves shredding Kleenexes, tearing up his cage liner, and detaching toys from his cage and throwing them on the floor, often breaking pieces off in the process. He recently figured

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-15702645830912981972009-09-14T19:26:00.003-06:002009-09-14T19:32:01.303-06:00

I turned down M&Ms and Dairy Queen ice cream, opting instead to slump in the back seatShowering and getting ready to take my sister to lunch wore me clean outLunch at Olive Garden wore me out furtherI had to sit down and rest while walking through Pier 1I was ready to go to bed at 5:30Being sick is getting so old. But I think I'm on the mend--feeling better every day.

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-71847776107676789292009-09-14T19:07:00.003-06:002009-09-14T19:21:52.321-06:00

I first heard about Plants vs. Zombies while reading Jorge Garcia's (you know, he plays Hurley on "LOST") blog. I'm not usually one for computer games, but this one just kind of stuck in my head until I finally checked it out. I got the free trial download from PopCap here, then spent about three hours straight protecting my virtual house from the zombies that were crossing my yard to eat my

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-65320703601013704662009-09-12T22:53:00.004-06:002009-09-12T23:55:38.828-06:00

It's official. I'm sick. And it's officially sucktacular. Sure, it's a good excuse to leave my house a huge mess, but I feel terrible! I have a nagging headache, a sore neck (from lying down so much), a runny nose, a congested chest, and so on and so forth. What super sucks is I was supposed to go to Olive Garden tonight with some of the girls from church (I'm trying to make new friends and be

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-82239998019197615652009-09-10T20:56:00.003-06:002009-09-10T21:51:07.172-06:00

I haven't been feeling 100% lately. Kinda sore, scratchy throat, kinda congested chest ("conchested"), tired a lot... Well, tired a lot is really par for the course. But the throat and chest, that's not. I've been treating my sore throat with copious amounts of ice cream, and I've prescribed a wait-and-see policy for the chest. I haven't died yet so my home remedies must be working. But my point

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-11100222825998996062009-09-09T23:42:00.003-06:002009-09-10T00:17:25.263-06:00

A couple of weeks ago I was engulfed in the sticky, smelly mire that is unmedicated depression, and oh boy, was it fun! Sleeping late and still not wanting to get up, cramming a lot of fast food down my already over-stuffed gullet (that's probably not really a symptom of the depression so much as what I'd like to think is the cure), and my motivation-o-meter needle dipping way past zero. But I

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-31279242953202273542009-09-08T20:38:00.005-06:002009-09-08T20:43:32.785-06:00

Tonight I found this stuck in my front flower bed:Here's what I did with it:Get permission first, Chad.

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-57349007160361833072009-09-08T17:50:00.006-06:002009-09-08T18:09:58.324-06:00

A few weeks ago I started watching Jericho over my Roku box. It's a TV show that takes place in a small town in Kansas after a nuclear attack on the United States. I started watching it on a Saturday night (shut up!), and by the time the third episode started, I vowed that first thing Monday morning I was going to head to WalMart and stock up on food and water. I did. I also stocked up on a few

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153830.post-86433419111951895702009-09-08T17:14:00.002-06:002009-09-08T17:22:23.812-06:00

Well, hello! Let's get to know each other, shall we? I should warn you up front that I live in a black hole of dorkishness. I don't have an actual job so I don't really have that to complain or be sarcastic about. I do, however, have three fish, four birds, and two dogs that supply me with lots of great stories about the funny thing Mr. Fluffypants did yesterday or the time Admiral von

TOWRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793365147574634180noreply@blogger.com0